The Undead Pool

Five

He eats his fries with mustard? I thought, watching Trent put the yellow squeeze bottle down and pull his basket closer as we sat at the bar and finished our dinner. The burgers had been heavenly and the conversation enlightening, even as it had been about nothing in particular.

Happy, I made a final notation on the scorecard and let the tiny pencil roll away. “Okay, okay, I’ll give you that last one, but only because I’m nice.”

“Nice, smice.” Trent dipped a fry and pointed it at me. “I took that pin fair and square. I can do magic while bowling.” He ate his fry and lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “You not knowing the charm doesn’t make it illegal.”

“Well, no, but it was kind of cheesy.”

“Cheesy?” He chuckled, looking nothing like himself but having everything I liked about him. I’d had a great time, and I’d been watching the clock with the first hints of regret. It had been unexpected, that feeling of forgetfulness, free for a time of who I was, and who he was, and what was expected of us. I didn’t want it to end. “Where did you learn to bowl?”

Trent watched his fingers, carefully picking out his next fry. “University. But you can’t use magic at the West Coast lanes. It’s not illegal, but it’s too unpredictable. How about you?”

I chuckled, glad when the music turned off. We were closing them down, and it felt good. “My brother belonged to a young bowlers’ league. When my mom worked weekends, he had to watch me. If I promised to leave him and his friends alone, he’d buy me a lane at the outskirts where I could mess around.”

Trent’s gaze went behind me to the last of the bowlers finishing their games. The cleaning staff was making inroads, but they wouldn’t shut the door for almost an hour. “Sounds lonely,” he said, dipping a fry.

“Not really.” But it had been. He was looking at my mouth again, and I wondered if he wanted to kiss me.

I dropped my head, and he shifted on the bar stool, the motion holding frustration.

“That was the best burger I’ve ever had to pay for,” he said to fill the silence. “I’m going to have to stop in the next time I’m in the area.”

“When do you ever get out here?” I could look at him now that he wasn’t looking at me.

“Never,” he admitted, his attention falling from the TV. “But I’d drive for this. Mmmm. The fries are good, too.”

“You should try them with ketchup,” I said, and then not knowing why, I pushed my basket toward him. There were a few fries in it, but it was the puddle of ketchup I was offering.

“I have,” he blurted, eyes wide to look charming. “I mean, I do, but not in public.”

I looked at his pointy ears, and he actually blushed.

“Right,” he said, then dragged his fry through my ketchup, not meeting my gaze as he chewed.

He used my ketchup, I thought, and something in me seemed to catch. “The good with the bad, yes?” I said, and when I lifted my pop, we clinked bottles. “Hey, I’m sorry about losing it today at the golf course. I should have handled that better. Bullies get the best of me.”

Absorbed with his fries, he shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. It surprised me when he brought up my background. I’ll do better next time. I’ve got a response now and everything.”

I took a swig of my drink and set it down. “Good luck remembering it. I always forget.” I wasn’t hungry, but I liked the idea of sharing a puddle of ketchup with him, and I ate one last fry. “It’s worth it, though, don’t you think? Not hiding?”

“God yes. I’ve not had to make any ugly decisions since Lucy came home.”

His voice had softened, and it was easy to see the love for his child. I knew he loved Ray just as much even though she didn’t have a drop of his blood. Ray was Quen and Ceri’s child. Trent had only repaired her damaged DNA, but the girls were being raised as sisters, especially now that Ceri was gone.

“So they come back tomorrow,” I prompted, wanting to see more of that soft look.

Trent nodded, the beer he’d nursed the last hour hanging between two fingers an inch above the bar. There was only one couple left at the lanes, the cook scraping the grill, and the guy at the shoe counter cleaning each pair before calling it a night. I liked Trent like this, relaxed and thinking of his kids, and I quashed a fleeting daydream. I couldn’t picture him in my church, living with the pixies, waking up in my bed. Stop it, Rachel.

A siren wailed in the distance. It felt like a warning, one I needed to heed. I wasn’t attracted to Trent because Al told me to leave him alone. I liked Trent because he understood who I was and would still sit at a bar with me and eat french fries. And it ends tomorrow.

“I’ll be glad when Quen gets back,” I said, eyes down.

“Oh? Has watching my back been that onerous?”

“No. It’s just that you take up a lot of my time.” And after tonight, I’m not going to have a damn thing to do.

Trent set my basket atop his and pushed them both to the side, making no move to leave. “You definitely have a different style than Quen. But you did a wonderful job of it. Thank you.”

Almost depressed, I watched the cook through the long thin pass-through. “Thank you,” I said, meaning it. Again we clinked bottles, and we both took a swallow. I was going to miss it. Miss everything. But the girls would be going back to Ellasbeth in three months. I could wait.

And then what, Rachel?

“I had a good time tonight,” he said as if reading my mind. “If things were different—”

“But they aren’t,” I interrupted. “Besides, you don’t pass my underwear test.” I needed to leave before I started to cry or break things. This really sucked.

“Your what?” Trent said, his eyes wide.

I couldn’t help the mental picture of him in tighty whities, then boxers, wondering which way he went. “My underwear test,” I said again, then added, “I can’t imagine folding your underwear week after week. That’s it.”

Seeming annoyed, Trent turned away. “I have people who do that for me.”

“That’s just it,” I said, fiddling with my pop bottle. This isn’t how I wanted to end this evening. “Even if you didn’t have this big thing you’re going to do with Ellasbeth, I can’t see you living in my church, or anywhere other than your estate, really, doing normal stuff like laundry, or dishes, or washing the car.” I thought of his living room, messy with preschool toys. I hadn’t ever imagined that, either. “Or trying to find the remote,” I said slowly.

“I know how to do all those things,” he said, his tone challenging, and I met his eyes.

“I’m not saying you don’t. I’m just saying I can’t imagine you doing those things unless you wanted to, and why would you?”

He was silent. In the kitchen, the cook began putting the food back into the big walk-in fridge. Trent’s jaw was tight, and I wished I’d never brought it up.

“Forget I said anything,” I said, touching his knee and pulling my hand back when his eyes darted down. “Laundry is overrated. I really enjoyed tonight. It was nice having a real date.”

Trent’s annoyance, startled away from that touch on his knee, evolved into a sloppy chagrin. Nodding, he spun his bar stool to take my hands and turn me to face him. It was ending. I could feel it. It was as if our entire three months together had been building to this one date. And now it was over.

“It was, wasn’t it?” Trent’s grip on my hands pulled me closer. My heart pounded. I knew what he wanted. There wasn’t a hint of energy trying to balance between us, but the tips of my hair were floating, and a sparkling energy seemed to jump between us. Trent’s eyes were fixed on mine, and I swallowed. He was feeling it too, a slight pressure on his aura, as if passing through a ley line.

Passing through a ley line?

“Do you feel that?” I said, remembering the same sensation on the bridge this afternoon.

“Mmmm,” he said, oblivious to my sudden disconcertment as he pulled me closer.

Oh God, he’s going to kiss me, I thought, then jumped at the bang at the shoe counter.

Trent jerked, a flash of energy balancing between us as he reached for a line.

My eyes darted to the shoe counter. A dusky haze hung over it. Under the smoke was a hole blown clear through the counter, the plastic melted, and above, an ugly stain on the ceiling. “What the fuck!” came from behind the remains of it, and the two people still on the lanes turned as the counter guy rose up, his beard singed and his eyes wide as he saw what was left of his desk. “Where the fuck are my shoes? Shit, my beard!”

It was smoldering, and he patted the fire out as a big man with suspenders came from a back room, a napkin in one hand. “What happened?” he said, then stopped short, staring at the counter. “What did you do?”

“The fucking shoe charm blew up!” the man said indignantly. “It just blew up!”

My heart pounded. Sparkly feeling, charm reacting with uncontrolled strength: it was starting to add up, and I looked at the couple returning to their game. Not every ball was charmed, but most were. Shit. “Stop!” I yelled as I slid from the stool, but it was too late, and the woman had released the ball. I watched it head for the gutter, then make a sharp right angle as if jerked by a string, bouncing over six lanes to bury itself in the wall with a bone-shattering thud.

It was happening again, and the woman turned to her boyfriend, white-faced. “Charles?” she warbled.

“No one do any magic!” I said, voice stark as it rang out. “You in the kitchen! Nothing!”

Everyone stared at me, Trent included, and my pulse rushed in my ears. Silence pooled up, and from outside we could hear pops and bangs followed by screams. The sirens we’d heard earlier took on a different meaning. A cold feeling slithered from the dark spaces between the realities, winding about my heart and squeezing. It was happening again, and it was worse.

“All right then,” the manager said, his expression determined as he crossed the bar. Reaching behind the demolished shoe counter, he grabbed a rifle, checking to see if it was loaded before striding to the door. The shoe guy followed, still patting at his beard. The couple from the lanes broke the rules and walked on the carpet with their borrowed shoes, and the cook came out from the back, hands working his stained apron to clean them as he walked.

Trent slid from his stool, but when I didn’t move, neither did he. It was happening again. Why? Was it me? Trent took my hand. Our eyes met. He looked worried.

Gun ready, the manager pushed open the door, everyone clustered behind him. Behind him, the sky was a ruddy red. “Good God Almighty,” he said, and I realized it was fire reflecting on the low clouds. “Greg, call 911. The Laundromat is on fire!”

People pushed outside around him, and Trent reached across me to take my shoulder bag. “Maybe we should leave,” he said, and I numbly nodded as he handed it to me.

Trent left a healthy tip on the table, and we headed for the door. The feeling of security, of a place set aside, was gone, and I tensed at his hand on the small of my back. We had to go sideways between the people to get out, and the smells hit me as I got too close: aftershave, perfume, grease, adrenaline.

My gaze went up as we got free of them, and my pace faltered. One street over, a three-story building was on fire, gouts of flame and black smoke rising through the empty shell, windows showing as bright squares and stark black lines. It reminded me of the ever-after, and I stared, listening to sirens and people shouting. Less than a block away, a car was on fire. The nearby apartment building reflected the light as a dozen people tried to put it out with a garden hose. People were coming from everywhere to help, even the sports bar half a block down.

Across the river, huge swaths of Cincinnati were dark from a power outage, and the gray buildings glowed with the reflected red light against the ruddy night sky. More sirens sounded faintly over the river, and I cringed at the imagined chaos. If it was bad here, it would be worse there.

Cars were starting up, the frightened jerky motions of the people showing their fear. “It’s not me,” I protested as Trent got me moving. “Trent, Al says my line is fine. It’s not me!”

“I believe you.”

His voice was grim, and I waited by his car as he pointed his fob and reached for my door. The car fire seemed under control, and Quen wouldn’t thank me for hanging around.

“Trent—” I started, gasping when the flaming car exploded. I dropped, pulling Trent down with me. I watched, mouth hanging open as chunks of burning car hit the ground to flicker and go out. A man’s high-pitched scream went to the pit of my being, terrifying as he fell to the ground, but the hose was already on him and the flames were out.

More people poured into the streets, the high flames and screams bringing the last of the diehards out of the bar to gawk and shout helpful advice. The man’s screaming had shifted to a gasping, pained cry, and the discarded hose spilled forgotten into the gutter. That this was happening all over the city was horrifying. Cincy couldn’t handle this. No city could.

“Do you think we can help?” I said, and Trent pulled his phone out.

“I have no signal,” he said, dismayed, and then we both turned to the dark street behind us at a terrified scream. It had come from the sports bar, and Trent’s grip on me tightened at the masculine shout following it, telling her to shut up and that she’d enjoy it.

My blood ran cold as a woman pleaded that she didn’t want to be a vampire.

Shit. My mind went to Ivy’s map. Were the misfires and violent crimes connected, or were the vampires simply responding to the overlying chaos? And where in hell were the masters?

“Let me go!” a woman screamed, her frantic cries muting at the slamming of the door. Behind me, people tried to keep the burned man alive. I was starting to get ticked. Living vampires didn’t just go bad, but there was a lot of fear in the air. Maybe it was too much for the masters to redirect. Pushing past Trent, I started across the street, swinging my bag around and digging through it. I couldn’t do anything to help the burned man, but by God I wasn’t going to walk away and leave that woman.

“Rachel, wait.”

If the woman was still screaming, we had a little time. Even so, I didn’t slow down. She’d said vampire, and they usually played with their food. “I’m not walking away,” I said as he fell into step beside me. “We both know what will happen if I do.”

“No,” he insisted. “Can I borrow your splat gun?”

I jerked to a stop, the woman’s frightened pleading a horrific backdrop. Shocked, I looked at Trent, my pulse pounding. He wanted to help? “Didn’t you bring anything?”

He shifted from foot to foot. “No. I was taking you on a date, not a stakeout.”

Yeah, I knew how that felt. I started for the building with a quick pace, an eye out for anyone else lurking in the shadows. “What am I supposed to use? You saw what happened to the ley line magic. Go back to the car. I’ll be right back.”

“Your magic is fine,” he said as he walked fast beside me.

“You call this fine?” I said, and he pulled me to a stop.

“Listen to the noise,” he said calmly, and my frantic pulse slowed. “It’s moving off. I felt whatever it was right before things went haywire, and it’s gone. Whatever it is, it’s past us. Try a spell. Something that won’t explode.”

The woman’s cries cut off with a startling smack of flesh on flesh. I had no time. I’d have to trust he was right. Breaking into a jog, I tossed my bag to Trent. “It’s in there. Don’t let them take her outside. If they get her alone, she’s dead or worse.”

Our feet scuffed on the sidewalk outside, but I didn’t care if they knew we were coming. “Got it,” Trent said, and I jerked the door open. I would have rather kicked it, but the hinges went only one way and I would’ve broken my foot. I’d learned this the hard way.

Trent came in behind me, my eyes going to the ceiling before returning to the three vampires at a back table: one woman, and two men, eyes blacker than the sky outside. The woman pinned to the table was in a bartending uniform. Her eyes met mine, her sobs punctuating the dwindling taunts as the vampires turned to us. My breath came easier. They were living vampires. Trent and I had a chance.

“Is this a bring-your-own-can-of-whoop-ass party?” I said, copping an attitude and pulling enough ever-after through me to make the strands of escaped hair float. The line felt normal, bolstering my confidence. “I got enough to pass if you three didn’t bring any.”

My gun in hand, Trent gave me a quizzical look. “Seriously?”

Shrugging, I shot him an annoyed look. “I’m kind of winging it here.”

The largest vampire let go of the woman, and the female vampire in pink-and-blue tights pulled her to herself, whispering in the terrified woman’s ear, her grip so tight it made the flesh between her fingers white.

The leader turned, running his eyes up and down my body, hopefully deciding I was too difficult to add to his evening’s entertainment, but the other, a cowering nervous man now that they had witnesses, tugged at his sleeve like a little boy.

“Vinnie. Vinnie!” he said, hunched as he looked at Trent and me. “It’s them free vampires. We got to go. Let’s go!”

Free vampires? I wondered, watching the leader, Vinnie, apparently, breathe deep, taking in the scents of the room and smiling as he realized we were nothing of the kind.

“Shut up,” he said, shoving the smaller man off him. “They aren’t vampires. That’s a witch and an elf. You ever tasted elf blood before? They say it tastes like wine.”

“And you’ll never know,” I said, finding my balance and pulling heavier on the line. “In fidem recipere, leno cinis,” I shouted dramatically, making a glowing ball hang right before me. My pulse raced, but it was perfect, the size I wanted and its construction without fault. It wouldn’t hurt them, but if I could cow them into leaving, I wouldn’t have to spend the rest of my night filling out forms. “You need to let her go,” I said boldly. Beside me, Trent took aim.

The show of force made the smaller vampire jiggle on his feet. “Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Vinnie, that’s Morgan!” he hissed, and the woman vampire finally quit her soft crooning. “Cormel’s demon. Come on. Let’s go!”

But Vinnie shoved the frightened vampire back, arrogant as he came forward three steps. “Cormel don’t scare me. Don’t let that woman go. This will only take a second.”

I pulled harder on the line, and the light glowed brighter, making the woman vampire hiss and drag the silent, tear-streaked bartender back. “Let’s try this again,” I said, and the largest vampire laughed. “You are going to let her go, and sit at a table. Pick one. It’s seat-yourself night. Otherwise, I’m within my rights to kick your collective ass until you’re unconscious. You know who I am, and that’s all the warning you’re going to get.”

The head vampire flicked his eyes to Trent, vamp pheromones rising like musky desire to make my neck tingle. He dropped back a step, and when I relaxed, he leaped at me, the other vampire screaming as he did the same a heartbeat behind.

“Celero dilatare!” I screamed, and the charm acted on the light curse already going, expanding it in a flash of light to blow them back.

The first vampire hit the floor, his head meeting it with a sodden thud. The smaller one handled it better, and he scrambled up as the woman vampire holding the bartender howled her anger. Even before regaining his feet, he fell, taken out by Trent’s first shot. His second hit the larger vampire, still dazed. His head fell back and hit the floor again. Two down, one to go.

“Help me!” the woman screamed as the last vampire dragged her away, and then all hell broke loose when the bartender began to wiggle wildly, thrashing out and clawing until the vampire threw her across the room and spun to run out the back.

“I’ve got her!” I shouted, hoping Trent didn’t down me with my own spell as I launched myself at her.

My breath exploded from me as I hit her and we went down, the vampire shrieking in anger and affront. Grabbing her luscious hair, I slammed her head into the floor. “This is why . . . you never leave . . . your hair loose!” I shouted in time with my motions.

“Rachel! You got her!” Trent cried out, jerking back when he touched me and I almost hit him. “You got her,” he said softer. “It’s over.”

Panting, I stopped. I was shaking, and I scrubbed a hand over my face before I slipped my hand in his and he helped me rise. My elbow felt like it was on fire, and I stood over the downed woman and twisted it to see. I had a floor burn, but if that was all I walked away from here with, then I’d done good.

No, we’d done good, I amended, seeing the gun still in Trent’s hand. He didn’t seem to know what to do with it, and I understood.

“Where’s the bartender?” I said, and we spun when she came out from behind the bar, a big-ass rifle in her hand. Her face was wet from crying, but her expression was of hate and fear. The sound of it cocking shocked through me, and I put my hands in the air.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! It’s okay! We got ’em!” I said, and Trent shoved the gun behind him into his waistband and out of sight.

Hunched, she came closer, the gun pointed at the largest vampire. “They tried to take me!” she screamed, and the adrenaline was a slap, clearing my thoughts. “They were going to turn me into a doll! I’m going to kill them! This is my place, and I’m going to kill them!”

Her eyes were darting between all three, and I let my arms come down. I nudged Trent, and he did the same. “Look, they’re all unconscious,” I said softly. “It’s over. You’re safe.”

“The hell I am! We have laws against this! Where are the master vampires! They’re supposed to protect us! I called the I.S. and no one came! If I ever see another vampire in my place, I’m going to shoot them on sight!”

I totally understood, but I edged closer, trying get between her and the vampires. “It’s over. You’re okay,” I said, hands out in placation. “You’re not marked or bitten, you’re okay. Tomorrow will be the same as today. Put the gun down. They aren’t getting up.”

“Rachel!” Trent shouted, and I turned, seeing the last female vampire I’d knocked unconscious coming at me.

“No!” I shouted, then dropped as the rifle went off.

“Leave me alone!” the bartender screamed, shaking as she stood with the smoking rifle in her hand. “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!”

Yep, she killed her, I thought. The female vampire had a hole in her chest big enough to put your fist in. The hole in her back would be bigger, and I thought the woman would look better with less makeup as she sighed her last breath and her pale hand fell against the scratched floor.

“Give me that,” Trent said, jerking the gun from the bartender’s slack grip as she stood, a shocked expression on her as she watched the vampire die her first death. Collapsing to the floor, the bartender began to sob, rocking back and forth with her knees drawn to her chin.

Gunpowder pricked in my nose. I got up as Trent took the last shell from the rifle, tucking it in his pocket before gently setting the weapon on the nearest table. There was no blood on me. No blood on Trent. There was a growing puddle of it on the floor under the woman vampire, and I looked at the clock over the jukebox. They’d want to know what time she died to better estimate her rising, though by the look of it, it might be weeks.

Silent, Trent eased to stand beside me. “I’m going to go out on a limb and say that a date with you is nothing like having you work security. Let’s not tell Quen about this, okay?”

I slowly looked him up and down. He seemed to be taking this rather well, but then again, I’d seen him kill a man in his office. Flashing me a mirthless smile, he started scanning the place. “You see a tablecloth anywhere?”

To cover the dead vampire, I thought, shaking my head. The woman was still crying. I knew I should comfort her, but I was kind of pissed at her right now. Leaving her to cry, I found my shoulder bag and dug out my phone.

“How come you got a signal?” Trent said, grunting when he checked his phone and found the towers were back up. Unfortunately the 911 circuits were busy, with a recorded message saying to hold for a thirty-minute wait time.

“Nuts to that,” I said, thinking I wasn’t going to spend my night here with a dead vampire. Hanging up, I called Edden’s direct line. “Edden,” I said as soon as his deep, low voice came clear over the sound of ringing phones and tense voices.

“Rachel? I don’t have time right now.”

Impatient, I pressed the phone to my ear. “I’m in a bar on Hostant Drive. I’ve got two vampires under sleep charms and another dead, possibly twice from a hole in her chest.”

Edden went silent, and the woman stopped crying at the sound of Trent locking the front door. “Oh,” Edden finally said. “Did you call 911?”

“Duh! There’s like a thirty-minute wait time. Edden, is there a vamp war going on? They mentioned something about free vampires.” Suddenly itchy, I turned to the door, wanting to leave.

“If there is, it involves all of them.” Edden’s voice went distant for a moment, then came back stronger. “My God, it’s a mess. The I.S. is completely down. Looks like one of your misfire waves came through again. Hold on.”

“It’s not my wave,” I grumbled, one arm across my middle as Trent finally got the woman to get up off the floor and into a chair facing away from the blood and violence. “Edden,” I started when I heard the phone picked back up.

“Do you have the situation contained?” he asked, and my eyes met Trent’s. He probably didn’t want to be seen here with a corpse on the floor.

“Unless their friends show up. Yes.”

“Okay. Good. I’m sending someone right now. There’s a fire a few blocks from you, so it won’t be but five minutes. Just sit tight. Can you do that?”

I looked at the woman sobbing quietly to herself. It was more gentle, broken almost, but I remembered her fear and her outright decisive lethal action. Forty years of carefully built coexistence gone in five terrifying minutes. We were that close to losing it all.

“I’ll be here,” I said softly. “We could really use an ambulance while you’re at it. Someone was burned very badly at the fire. And thanks.”

Muttering something, he hung up. Not closing the phone, I called David’s number, but there was no answer and I didn’t leave a message. Trent was standing behind the bar, pouring vodka into a single glass when I texted Ivy that I ran into some difficulty but was okay and would be home a little later than planned. No need to tell her that vampires were behaving badly. She probably already knew that. I hoped Nina was okay. The safe houses would be busy tonight.

“You ever hear of free vampires?” I said as I went to the bar to sit and wait. Head shaking no, Trent set the vodka beside the woman and returned to stand beside me and lean against the bar, his entire body stiff with tension. “That was fun,” I said sarcastically, then noticed a darker anger in him, one deeper than the mess before us would warrant. “You okay?”

“I called to tell Quen that I was all right, and he informed me Ellasbeth is refusing to bring the girls home.”

Lips parting, I reached out. “What? She can’t do that! Ray isn’t even hers!”

My eyes darted to the dead vampire, unsure if that sigh had been caused by a muscle release or voluntary.

“Ellasbeth says that with the misfires impacting Cincinnati she has every right not to bring them into a dangerous situation,” he said. “That the estate is outside of the area doesn’t seem to matter.”

Worried, I gave his arm a squeeze. “I’m sorry. You know you’ll get them back. She can’t do this.”

His expression eased as his attention came back to me, and I suddenly realized we were inches apart. “Yes, I will,” he said softly. “How are you? Still shaky?”

Feeling the warmth between us, I looked at my skinned elbow. “Fine. Edden’s sending someone. You can go if you want. We’ll be okay.” Unless the bartender had another gun stashed somewhere.

He glanced over at the bar, gaze settling on the rifle with his prints on it. “I’ll wait. Besides, this is the most excitement I’ve had in three months.” His smile went right through me, warming me from the inside. “I’m glad we did this,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“The date, right?” I said, trying to lighten the mood. “Not the . . . this?”

Eyebrows high, he brushed me as he leaned over the bar for a bottled water. Tingles raced up my arm, and I didn’t move. “I can honestly say that a date is nothing like working with you,” he said as he cracked the top of it and handed it to me.

I took a swig before handing it back. I was curious to see if he’d drink from it as well. My skin was still tingling, and my heart pounded when he looked at his watch, smiled, and then leaned in to kiss me.

My first flash of annoyance evaporated in a puff. His hands pulled me closer, and the sensation of fire dove through me, plinking every single trigger I had. The scent of cinnamon and vampire pheromones rose, and a soft sigh escaped me. This wasn’t enough, and uncaring of tomorrow, I slid from the stool. Our lips parted as he stumbled, and then I pulled him to me, arms going around him and up into his hair.

I had spent the last three months looking at his hair, wondering what it would feel like in my fingers again. Three long months I’d watched him move, seen him in every possible piece of clothing and wondered what he’d look like out of them and how he might move against me when the darkness was velvet and the sheets were cool. Three months of saying no, be good, Rachel, be smart, Rachel.

I wanted one damn kiss, and I was going to have it, by God.

“You are fucking animals!” the woman at the table exclaimed, and when Trent’s lips threatened to slip from mine, I sent the barest dart of tongue past his lips to recapture his attention. It worked. His breath caught, and I swear the man growled. His arm crushed me to him, and it was all I could do to not wrap my legs around him. Bar stools could hold that much weight, right?

“There are three dead vampires on my floor, and you are making out?”

Energy darted between us, and breathless, I pulled back, the sound of our lips parting sparking through me. Trent’s eyes smoldered. I held their heat, tasting him on my lips. It wasn’t the vampire pheromones in here. It was three months of saying no.

“Relax,” I said to her, never dropping Trent’s gaze. My heart was pounding, and I still didn’t care about tomorrow. “Only one of them is dead, and I think she’s going to make it. You probably won’t even have any jail time.”

“Jail time! They tried to blood rape me!”

“Like I said. No jail time.”

Trent was still silent, but he was smiling at the sound of boots and the flash of cop lights on the front sidewalk. The woman made a tiny sound and ran to unlock the door. We slowly parted, his hand slipping from me in a sensation of tingles. My smile faded as I looked at his hand and realized I’d never hold it again.

That hadn’t been our first kiss, but it had been our last.